Constrictoro
by Constrictoro
Summary: COMPLETE! While Peter Parker and Spiderman strive to bring back they're old identities, a new foe is born miles away. Things should have stayed miles away. For Spiderman has just met Constrictoro, one who is far more powerful than himself! Post SM3! R&R!
1. James Price

**Chicago, Illinois**

James Price stood in the waiting room of the Cussler Research Center. His time may had arrived.

It had been long since he had last dreamed of this accomplishment.

He could still remember those days when things of this level seemed possible. Back before he was young. Of course, after he had hardened enough to wish for such things.

In his tweens, he had planned and conspired the idea. He had tried to find followers, for back then, that was the only way. They had refused, of course, as he could have foreseen today. Yet, even in those ancient days, he was able to bend his words in such a way that many believed in his thoughts. Though, they were most likely wishing to believe his intentions were apart from how they sounded.

In later time, he had traveled the word. Feeding on and exhausting the money he had worked his whole life to obtain. With some success.

Some success which may insure the plan he was laying out as the seconds in the waiting room ticked on.

Yes, it was success today. Though he hadn't seen it's potential for many years. When he traveled the world, he managed to collect a few, yet very few, followers. When gathering people from around the planet, his appearance as idealist had strengthened and the belief of madman had naturally lessened. He had obtained seven-teen of them in truth, though nine had tired of his plots and moved on out of his vision. But the eight remaining, oh, they had been loyal.

Over the years he realized what he wished was impossible. He had looked for other ways, but he knew none could prevail.

But then, two things happened at the same time.

Something on masquerade used unhuman powers to preserve safety.

While another "thing" attacked with seemingly no purpose yet could not have been human. It's strength had proved it.

But what if he could obtain such abilities? It was a dream, yet a realization that this could be a way to seal what he wished.

For months he searched, theorized, and spied. Trying to find out how a man, if they were human, could be capable of such powers. The brutal attacker had vanished. Killed by the other, he suspected. The other, which went threw the streets of New York City, could shoot a strange substance from it's wrists. He had tested a piece of it only to find that, it didn't quite match any known species, but was still incontrovertibly... spider silk. This opened so many doors than it closed, it was impossible for him to see the way out.

But then it was not two years later when something else came. A man who had managed to control artificial limbs along with his own arms. But he knew very well he would never be able to afford such things. But he still kept a sharp eye around. Looking for another to do the same.

Then, three years after was when everything shot into full motion.

A thing, similar to the mindless attacker from five years ago, appeared. But seemed to work with the city's defender, the being with spider silk.

A similar being to the one with spider silk appeared. But battled against the one he resembled.

And, just before all of them, was his favorite of them all.

A man that would break his own structure into small fragments yet regroup unharmed. Powerful. Yet not killable.

That was the time when he had realized what was happening and what could be done.

When the first of these super-humans had arrived, it was followed by one who opposed him. Both sides had their own chance to fight.

In less than five years, six of these "things" had come to being.

It was obvious a new line of power was stringing itself. Once one came, more followed.

And more would surely follow after that. If he looked, stretched out his grasp, he may find a way to become one of these "super-humans". And, perhaps, speed the time it would normally take.

That was what he was here for.

He was told Mr. Cussler would allow him in and was given fifth-teen minutes to ask questions for a newspaper he worked for.

This, of course, was not true.

There was no newspaper. All he had done was say he worked for the Chicago Record and they allowed him in without further inquisition. For no one else understood the potential of what could be done with what they had. He only needed to make sure before setting out the stages of his plan.

He went threw five minutes of his tim, being explained the technical behavior of it.

"What interests me," Said Price, "Is how it reacts to other matter around it."

He was told of how it reacted to iron, copper, many acids.

Ten minutes.

He needed to know what it was capable of, even if it broke from his acting.

"How does it react to things below it?" He inquired, "As in, not as strong. Weaker."

"Well," Said Cussler, "We speculate it would form some kind of matrix. But it wouldn't really be of any difference from what is today. Whatever it blinded with would only become the Kambaldaite. The other substance wouldn't remain in the slightest."

"And this matter, it is far, far stronger than others of it's kind found."

"That is why we intend to heat it. It will cause the molecules to merge closer and slightly alter. And, yes, it is a new kind found in a trench far off the coast of Australia, yet still near enough to obviously be related to it's fellows."

"And this stuff has no nickle in it?"

"None at all. And I'm afraid I will have to let you go, I'm a busy man."

Cussler retreated from his chair and approached the door.

Price got up, too, and made to exit the building. But first asked another question.

"If the crystals were to bond," He asked, "With a lesser substance, wouldn't the thing it took form of still function, in a certain way, as it did before?"

Cussler turned to him, with an amused smile, seeming to believe Price thought he could persuade him into changing his own project.

"Yes, in a certain way, Mr. Price, but there is no reason in wasting our money for senseless amusement."

And retired from the room.

Price brooded on his thoughts for a long time. Everything was perfect. Better than he could have imagined. Far better. But everything had to take place perfectly. Absolutely perfectly.


	2. Peter Parker

**Manhattan, New York City**

Peter Parker burst into the classroom of Dr. Connors.

"Doctor Connors," He said, "I'm really sorry, I left really early for your class, but the traffic really built-"

"You have a car?" Dr. Connors interrupted.

"I... used to have a bike."

"'Used to' doesn't delay traffic today." "

Enough excuses, Parker." He continued, for he had seen Peter open his mouth again. "Take your seat as though you haven't missed ninety-five percent of my class."

Peter did so and peered into his book, trying to catch up with what he had been teaching.

It was about how a computer could substitute the missing DNA between a human and an animal.

Peter imagined this would never even be possible, let alone what good it would do.

"With this," Said Connors, answering his thoughts. "We can replace people's kidneys, liver, even prevent many diseases."

The class ended before Peter could even catch up with it. Which was really a pity, since he was often one of the few students who could understand it.

He got up and retreated the classroom. He saw a blond haired women go by and made to follow her.

She saw him.

"Gwen," said Peter, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for missing class today. Since I was your chemistry partner, I imagine-"

"Doctor Connors assigned me with another person," Gwen cut off, coldly. "Since our class is an odd number, there's always someone without one."

"Oh," Said Peter.

There was silence

"Listen," Said Peter, "I'm sorry about the way I acted with our date the other day... I... wasn't myself back then. I've changed since-"

"Parker," Said a voice behind him.

"A word," Said Dr. Connors.

He led Peter to his office.

Peter saw a chock board with complex numbers and symbols quickly written on it's surface, what looked almost like a lava lamp with a piece of what looked like reptile skin bouncing in it, and a clear-colored desk with an assortment of plant specimens.

"Sit down, Parker." Said Connors, gesturing to the chair opposite the desk.

Peter obeyed.

"Now, Parker," Said Connors, "I'm to cut directly to the chase, you've missed three classes in a row now."

Peter waited.

"I have no choice," He concluded, "But to fail you."

"Doctor Connors," Said Peter, "Please, give me one more chance, I won't let it happen next time."

"That's the exact thing you've said three times in a row, now. And it's not just me, Parker, the whole University's in agreement. There flunking you. I'm sorry, Parker, but you don't seem to ever go to our college, anyway. Perhaps you can now catch up to whatever's so much more important to you."

Peter exited the office, and exited the campus, without another word. Without another word _to_ say.

-----------------------------------------

Half an hour later, he met up with Mary Jane at a cheap restaurant.

"Hi," He said.

"Hi," she returned.

This was the way they had begun to great each other lately.

"So..." Said Mary Jane, slowly. "What did you do with the body?"

"What?" Said Peter, in a barely hearable voice from being near-nonplus in confusion.

"Harry's body! Trying to hide his identity, what did you do with it?"

"I... didn't do anything with Harry's body."

"Then where is it?"

"I... don't know what you mean, I left before anyone could get up there."

"Authorities came and found no body. Harry's only known as an unidentified man who vanished with Spider-Man. Now, you didn't try to stop people from thinking he was the Green Goblin?"

"No."

"Or in case Harry Osbourn knew Peter Parker?"

"No."

Mary Jane still didn't seem to believe him.

"What do we do now?" She asked, "Report him missing?"

"I... don't know."

"Well, no one else will."

There was more silence.

"You know," She continued, "You don't need to lie to me, Pete."

"I'm not lying to you."

------------------------------------------------

A half-hour went by in silence.

Peter walked to a building marked '_The Daily Bugle_' on the first floor's window.

"Parker, step in," Said a man, at one with the fast-paced lifestyle so much, it was even in his voice. "I want to speak to you."

"Yes, Mr. Ja-"

"Parker," The man said without waiting for him to finish speaking. "Were you having an out of body experience when Spider-Man's crazy twin brother kidnaped my son's ex-fiancé? Girl leaves my son for Spider-Man, who would of seen that coming? I printed this huge love-affair story with only distant pictures."

"You posted a story claiming Mary-"

"Shut up, you've already been fired. I'm sorry, I tried to think of the nicest way to say it. Miss Brint, drop all of Parker's crappy photos we never used over his nerdy head. Maybe it'll reattach his brain."

A girl brought a box filled with non Spider-Man pictures to him.

Peter ignored her gaze.

Peter left, carrying the photos, knowing nothing would change his mind. But planning on getting more pictures of Spider-Man as soon as possible.


	3. Constrictoro

**The Cussler Research Center, Chicago**

James Price stood at the emergency exist of the building with his cavalry of men.

"This time of the world is ours, men." He said, he was carrying an antique flintlock rifle with one hand, two silenced pistols at his belt.

Lifting it, he fired the signal.

Instantly, a man from the other side of the exit pushed open the door. Several of his cavalry ran threw the doors. Two security guards saw them and signaled them to halt, both men then drew weapons when the firearms of Price's cavalry were seen lifted.

_BANG! _

_BANG!_

Two of Price's men fell to the ground dead.

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

One of the guards, and then one of the cavalry.

_BANG! BANG!_

Both one of Price's men and the other security guard at once.

At no more delay, Price had thrown himself straight into the room.

They apparently had herd them coming. But known were prepared.

Price's eyes quickly flashed to the experiment they had started, then to his flintlock.

Gunfire sprayed the room.

In seconds, the room was clear.

One of Price's men attempted to speak, but his leader signaled for silence and walked as though in a trance where the experiment was.

A seemingly empty glass cylinder connected to a table was obviously under heating.

"It is almost at it's point." Said Price. And waited.

The room waited in silence as Price stood as though frozen in his position. Eyes burning into the glass cylinder.

One of his crew stated that Price may lessen his vision if he continued to stair at something burning so very bright.

Price looked up as though no time had elapsed.

"That won't be a problem before long." He said.

After another three minutes, Price seemed to look even harder at the glass container and reached out his hand.

As though waiting to flash a photo at the finish of a race, his hand twitched for a few seconds, waiting for the perfect time.

And then, so quick you might not be sure it even happened, Price cracked open the cylinder, threw his hand underneath it, and closed it again.

His hand was crunched under the glass.

So tightly, some of his crew thought it must have been amputated.

For three minutes; Price stood there, transfixed once again.

He then threw his hand out, and panting, ran and placed it under a microscope.

He stood there peering threw it, and adjusting it; still panting and now murmuring, almost whimpering, but not in pain.

Then his face relaxed and looked up at his crew, finally acting like he was in the same room as them.

With a mouth that looked as though it would break into a grin at any moment, he spoke.

"It has been done." He said, and before anyone could speak their relief or congratulate him, he had drawn the two silenced pistols at his belt, and shot them all.

Now, he really did smile. He didn't need _them_ anymore. He could now accomplish everything by himself. Everything.


	4. Spiderman

Spider-Man crept over the walls of an alleyway, camera in hand.

There, he saw the commotion. A mugging.

Placing the camera in an old window cell, he swung down on the mugger, and almost instantly shot two strings of webbing over each of his hands, holding him there.

He shot webbing at the camera, forcing it to shoot.

-----------------------------

Many police officers ran into the Cussler Research Center where there were reports of gunfire.

A man still stood next to the many bodies. And only looked up at them, weaponless.

"If your going to arrest me," He said, "I suggest you do it. I don't have much time on my hands."

Guns ready, the officers checked him for weapons. None were found, and he was quickly bound heavily. And lead away.

-------

"If you're trying to sneak your way into the mental institution," Said Police Chief Elijah, "It's not going to happen, that's all I have to say."

It had been an hour of perfectly pointless questioning. He, though the chief, had wished to speak with this strange killer. Elijah hoped his skill could juice the truth out.

"I hope that is all you have to say, Chief." Said Price, looking perfectly calm and content.

"Just tell me." Said Elijah; at a loss, with no more patience, "Why, why, did you do it."

"That's for me to know." Said Price, "And you to certainly find out. Now, I think that's enough questions. It's late, and I haven't been able to sleep well for a long, long time. Almost my whole life, in fact."

-----

He had slept well that night. And woken up to the sight that it, over only those hours, had shown development.

In the near center of his right thumb, was a small glimmer of dark-green colored crystal where skin should be.

----

After only four days, it had developed quicker and quicker.

By the end of the first day, the entire base of his thumb looked like a large gem.

Then it spread, on the second, day over his palm. Looking as though long jewels had been implanted into his hand.

On the third day, part of each of his fingers were made of crystal.

By the morning of the forth day, it had covered his entire hand and part of the top of his wrist.

But, though solid as rock, he could still move it.

He could crack and brake his fingers, but it wasn't just his fingers.

His fingers were just has stiff as the rest of his hand. But when broken, like many moving blocks and cylinders, he could give every aspect of his hand full agility. Make everything twist and even reform into something else. For he could control how it cracked. But he had to be careful; for it made a noisy, squeaky, cracking sound. But this was all better than he had thought, far better, once again.

"_Luck seems to have become my slave_." He thought, as an officer walked passed his cell.

He hadn't concealed his hand quick enough, this time.

The man ran off.

------------------------------------------------

As Spider-Man went threw the city, he saw many people become aware of his presence; some cheering, some looking worried, some just staring at him, and some fleeing.

Spidey's spirits fell far below the city: even as Spider-Man, he couldn't find freedom anymore.

Some people had confused the "creature", that was really Eddie Brook, with Spider-Man, and Spider-Man with the creature.

Spidey's popularity had been at it's highest peek, but by now had fallen. Fallen significantly.

--------------------------------------------------------

Elijah had been in his office when one of the younger guards had asked him to look into Price's cell room.

Suspecting Price to be up to something, he had been waiting for this kind of information.

He re-accompanied the guard back to the cell that held James Price.

There he saw Price, with something on his hand. Something dangerous, Elijah figured, that he had somehow obtained during his break in.

Price saw Elijah and lurched, seeming to wish to use the thing on his hand as some kind of weapon.

Elijah attacked first. Pulling out his handgun, he aimed and fired at the very thing on Price's hand.

This was a mistake.

The bullets only bounced off and hit the other end of the cell.

He tried to shoot somewhere other than the substance, but Price was this time quicker.

Price moved his hand quickly wherever the gun was and, before Elijah could cease fire, parried the bullets right back at Elijah.

--

Price looked, for a second, to be certain Elijah was truly dead before turning to the other guard.

The other guard raised his pistol, unsure when to shoot, wishing not to meet Elijah's fate.

Price flipped the side of his crystal hand the complete opposite direction, revealing a far sharper end.

He cut strait threw his metal cell, bursting threw once he had barely cut enough to get passed.

The guard ran for it.

Price didn't follow.

"_Let the guard tell the tail_.", He thought.

"Tell them," He shouted after him, "That I'll be attacking the city soon. And that security won't stand a chance at fighting me."

---------------------------------------------------------

"It's a trap, Peter."

Mary Jane had just seen a news flash recalling a "crystal handed man" along with Peter.

"He's only doing this to bring you over there." She said.

"Weather it's a trap or not," Said Peter, "I have to stop him. He only has a single hand as a real weapon. He doesn't realize he'll be trapping himself, this way."

This was what Peter had been wishing for. A chance to get away from New York, the all to easy New York crimes, and away from being Peter Parker.

The phone rang.

"Parker, I want you to go digging the city for Spider-Man." Said the voice of J. Jonah Jamison, "With all this one-handed freak business in Chicago, I want New Yorkers to remember they're own inhuman trouble maker."

"I'm going to be out of the city for a little whil-" Said Peter.

"Shut up, your not fired anymore."

"Than I quit."

"You qui-?!"

But Peter had already hung up the phone.

Of all his foes, this seemed to be the first to have true cruelty without mind-manipulation. He had already pictured the tide of heros and what actions they took. With James Price on one end and himself on the other. That "himself" being the true Spider-Man.


	5. When Ends Meet

Spider-Man glided his way past all of the sky scrapers, leaping down and across water to the statue of liberty, and then out of New York City entirely.

Leaving the looming town behind, so he could enter another.

---------------------------

James Price rested on a tree limb, inside a forrest off Chicago.

With the help of his crystal arm, he had managed to get up there. And now: he waited. Waited for the full effect.

Gaining speed as before; it grew: becoming his entire right arm and the right side of his chest.

Then running across his chest to his left arm.

Then down his left arm and hand, while more grew over his neck and his face.

Growing completely over his face, head, and left hand, before consuming the rest of him.

His hair and nails were not consumed, but simply clipped off. Dead parts of his body; no longer needed.

All of this was far from unpainful. But now, at last, he was fully formed. At last.

And now, fully formed, he shifted his form. Creating his perfect stature.

His legs and feet became far bulkier and stronger, able for ultimate support.

From his shoulders to his legs was nothing but a bulky, but flatter, triangular frame without any detail or distinction. Like a solid coat of armor.

His arms were strong and lengthy, with inflexible croissant shaped fingers which he could rotate.

His head and brain were complete, dark green crystal like the rest of him. Though his mind still could function properly.

But he now had his forehead overlap, further out, but narrowed. Like a thick sun guard, only a guard for enemies, instead.

His eyes were now two jeweled orbs, with two black holes for pupils. That could slide - slightly slower and much more noisy than regular eyes - to see in multiple directions.

He no longer needed cloths. For he no longer needed heat, nor blockage from the sun, nor had anything to cover.

Now he traveled back, back to the city. No longer vulnerable.

-----------------------------------------------

He had been traveling for some hours now, sometimes hiding under the car of a train when buildings or trees were too small to swing bye.

He now approached, threw the harbor of the town's great lake, the city itself.

It should now only be a matter of time before that crystal handed man showed up.

He swung threw the new city, looking for anyone suspicious. Perhaps someone with only one glove on.

-------

It was dusk. He had had no idea how quickly he could learn a new city by heart.

He was perched on the Sears tower, thinking the tallest building in the city would be the best place for searching and/or spotting strange activity, when he saw a plume of smoke along one of the outer sides of the city.

Instantly, he leaped down, simply falling for a long time until he was level with other buildings, then swung quickly out of sight of all citizens watching.

-----

Heavy, black smoke blew past his mask as Spider-Man stood, trying to see what had caused it.

After pacing forward he saw many people, police or firefighters, running toward something but then being struck down. He had caught a shimmer of transparent green even threw the smoke.

Without a moments hesitation, he lifted his hand and shot a long, strong, bolt of webbing at the direction where he saw the green light.

The webbing covered a figure. But the figure neither stumbled, nor moved.

As Spider-Man moved so close to the thing it could have hit him if it wasn't for his webbing, he saw what it was.

What seemed to be a great gemstone, carved to look like a full grown man stood there, bound in Spider-Man's webbing. Only it was moving. Turning to him. And, then, spoke.

"I was expecting you a bit earlier. But better late than never, I suppose." He said.

He spoke in a low, deep voice. Perhaps deep enough to obscure the rasp, or crackling where his throat would be. Like many small crystals quickly moving to imitate vocal cords. But it also had a smooth, sort of softness to it. In these brief seconds, he wondered if this being even had lungs or perhaps it just propelled outside air threw his head as a use of speech.

Looking up, Spider-Man saw several buildings on fire. Caused by police - and other cars - being hit, in the precise areas of a car to cause an explosion, by what seemed to be parts of the road. This type of street seemed surprisingly harder, and didn't come apart as he would have suspected.

Looking down, he saw the police and firefighters. They're pale faces looked as though something had grasped they're heads until... blood was unable to enter the brain.

Looking straight in front of him was the man responsible. Who simply flicked the side of his left arm and cut threw the webbing with barely any movement.

The pieces of his left arm that had broken off to cut the bound, now regrouped and formed his, again.

Spider-Man lifted a hand at the being that was once called "James Price".

"You shouldn't of waited for your own defeat." He said.

"No." Said Price. "You see, you've got it all wrong. You've been looking for your own."

"Oh, I don't think so."

"Perhaps a visual demonstration will change your mind."

Spider-Man ran toward the creature, fists out, ready for an attack.

Price didn't move until the last minute and then moved his right hand up, hitting Spider-Man so hard in the chest, he was thrown into the air.

Half a second later, Spider-Man was sent back down on Price, he targeted a fist under Price's head before being struck hard again by him. This time being thrown far away and crashing into the street.

Now, it was Price's turn to attack. He ran toward Spider-Man and kicked him into one of the buildings.

Spider-Man struggled to his feet as Price walked threw a broken window.

Price thrust him against one of the walls and aimed a blow.

Spider-Man dived out of the way, but Price hit him from behind with his other fist, tossing him out the window.

Spider-Man shot webbing and swung onto one of the buildings.

Price slid a finger under the road and pealed it off. He flung the piece of the street at the building Spider-Man was on.

The piece of the wall he was clinging crashed and fell to ground with Spider-Man under it.

Price only strolled to the place where Spider-Man was now trying to standup.

"I think you get the picture, by now. But I might as well make sure, you see, I don't like it when people get the wrong ideas of me.", He said.

Spider-Man shot several blasts of webbing at him with Price only cutting them aside.

He shot two strings of webbing at the opposite building and slung toward him, trying to club him with a kick.

He kicked, but Price didn't stagger.

He shot two strings of webbing back at him from the opposite building, but Price gripped them both and pulled Spider-Man back to him.

Spider-Man crashed into him and fell to the ground, for a split second, before kicking himself back up and hitting Price in the chest, and grimaced in the pain it caused him. It felt like hitting solid, more than solid, rock.

Price grasped the arm Spider-Man had used to attack with, making him grown beneath his mask, and hit him, making him slide again against the street.

Spider-Man got back up before his reflexes told him to get out of the way.

Price had rotated one of his fingers into some kind of spear and harpooned it toward the center of his chest.

Spider-Man threw himself out of the way, but the weapon was moving so quickly, he only had time to save his heart.

_THWARP!_

It hit him just under the right side of his chest. He was wounded.

Using all his strength which he thought might kill him, he leaped into the air, shooting webbing onto one of the buildings that wasn't on fire. He had to get out of here.

Almost screaming to make himself move, he swung his way threw the smoke, dodging pieces of road Price was apparently thrusting at him. He was thankful for the smoke.

He leaped over onto one of the buildings, slung down the other side, and was gone.


	6. Vincible

"The 'Constrictoro', sir?" Asked an employee of the Daily Bugle.

"Just 'Constrictoro'." Said J. Jonah Jamison, "Even if he's not in New York, I can still sell issues; and throw in a name, while I'm at it. And you better like it, I spent all morning thinking about a name for the son of a... well, I don't really know what he's a son of, if you've heard the rumors. Some kind of walking mineral, they say, see-threw green. I wasn't sure if I should believe them, so I just named him after what the police reports said about the bodies he left. He apparently just squeezed the life out of them. So I thought of boa constrictors. Then just added an 'o' to it, since the guy seems to think he's pretty manly. And I think it suits him, since his plan is to just squeeze one city after another until they all stop breathing. I always did think of myself as a poet at heart, you know."

The employee didn't seem to wish to argue and retreated back to his work.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Spider-Man crawled threw an empty corner of Chicago and took off his mask.

Blood streamed out of it.

He found a place that would hide himself a little, and then, fell to the ground.

He tried to pull the piece of crystal out, but it was too deep.

Aching, he placed the front of his wrist to the wound.

He shot webbing where the shard had pierced him. The web curled around the open skin, causing more pain, but also gripping the piece of gleaming green.

Gritting, he pulled at the web, making the wound worse yet also removing the weapon.

He threw it aside, and closed his eyes trying to remember his fast healing powers. But the only thing he could truly concentrate on was: "_Mary Jane. Mary Jane_."

-----------------

He woke the next morning, still pained, but not as fatal.

He needed to rest. Ha had to try not to think about what was out there, and what it might be doing.

But he was Spider-Man, his place was between the people and death itself, even if that did mean himself dying in the attempt.

Attempt? What would then happen when he fell? He had to survive until that "thing" was gone. Even if that did mean sacrificing some, to save a larger majority.

No, no, he couldn't think like that.

Either way, he wasn't in a state to save a single life at the moment.

He did have to rest.

But how, even when well, even at the best of health could he fight such a predator? He had seen and felt power past his own knowledge.

How could this creature master his strength so quickly? _He_, _Spider-Man_, was the one with experience, _not_ he.

How powerful was he? He had made Spider-Man feel the way he hadn't felt in over five years: Vulnerable. Vulnerable the way every citizen next to one of Spider-Man's "equals" had felt vulnerable.

But how far could _his_ own power reach? He had always felt he was growing stronger, more experienced. Each fight with one of his equals was harder than the one before. Forcing the one before to seem easy.

And he _had_ grown those times as a fighter. Could he not grow without those fights? Could he not train himself to use his ability at the extreme?

Yes, he supposed he could. And he had better do so before this creature grew more experienced, more powerful, himself.

And with that, he fainted.

----

Four days later, his wound had healed magnificently, though still not perfectly. But the pain he should now ignore.

He had been sneaking into the back of a produce store for the last three days to return strength.

Placing back on his mask, after cleaning the two lens of blood stains, he slung off. He hadn't done so, in what seemed like years.

He paused to look at a newspaper stand, mid-sling, and hung there:

"_CONSTRICTORO STILL ABSENT - There have still been no more sightings of the supposed man made of crystal since his attack on the western side the city. When he was responsible for the burning of several buildings and the murder of five men_,_ authority's say._"

"_So that's what they're calling him_.", thought Peter.

And now, to prepare for his next encounter with "Constrictoro".

-------

Spider-Man had made is way into the under grounds of the city.

Now, to test his strength.

He leaped into the air, trying to get onto a support structure far above him.

This time, without support from any webbing.

He didn't reach it.

He tried again, and again, and again.

He managed to just get his arms level with it. He thrust his finger tips on the side of it and pushed himself onto it.

He jumped back down, landing on his feet.

He ran to where the support structure began and started to climb up it, vigorously.

He reached the top and jumped toward the ceiling.

He hit the wall and gripped it with the spider-power on his finger tips and feet.

He crawled onto the wall and then, facing the ground, let his hands go.

He staggered, but his feet still held him.

Carefully, he lifted one foot and quickly moved it forward toward the ground.

He staggered and fell.

His hands gripped another part of the wall and flipped him, his feet then catching the surface of the wall, again.

He was now facing the ceiling. He lifted his foot, again, and placed it above him. Pressing hard against the wall.

He did this slowly for a long time before picking up speed. Then, approached the ceiling.

He walked boldly onto the surface of the ceiling, feeling gravity pull all his blood toward the head.

He walked quickly now. Trying not to give himself time to fall.

This took a long time to master.

---

Now, his legs stood fixed; upside down, on the support structure - opposite the surface of it -, before sharing the effort with his finger tips, again.

Then, slowly, took his feet off it.

All support of his body was now on his ten finger tips.

He let is left hand go.

Five finger tips.

Slowly, he let one finger go after the other until his index finger was supporting his whole weight.

Then, grimacing, hoisted himself up and onto the surface of the structure.

He took off his mask, gasping in air.

----

He swung his way threw an alleyway, fallowing what looked to be a mugging.

He pulled his webbing so that it would launch himself far higher up, and then allowed himself to fall until the last instant, before shooting two strings of web, barricading the fall.

And then crept to the edge of one of the buildings in the alley and waited for them to reach him.

Two people seemed to be chasing another.

Spider-Man waited until the perfect time, and then leaped in front of the two criminals.

One tried to attack Spider-Man with his own fist, while the other drew a hand gun out of his sleeve.

Spider-Man dodged the hit, and then listened for his reflexes.

The other man fired.

Spider-Man moved out of the way.

"_Don't defeat them yet_." He thought, "_Continue to train yourself_."

The man fired again.

Spider-Man missed, but the bullet was heading for the third person.

He shot webbing, just barely covering the bullet, and pulled it back..

Now, the other man attacked from behind.

Spider-Man dodged punch after punch as the other man cocked his gun, again, and fired.

He was ready for it.

He shot webbing at the same precise time.

The small piece of webbing hit the bullet and it fell to the ground.

He did this again and again. His middle fingers working like lightning.

With a sudden idea, he shot webbing from both wrists and joined them in mid-air.

They not only blocked three more bullets, but collided with the weapon and gripped it.

Pulling both wrists away from each other, the gun and webbing were pulled back at him.

He gripped the gun with all his strength and it bend and crumbled.

The two muggers seemed to decide to retreat after this and ran for the other end of the alleyway.

Spider-Man shot one web and they were both knocked to the ground, unable to move.

Shooting webbing at the top of the building, far above, he leaped into the air and, within seconds, at reached the roof.

He ran and jumped, not landing on the next roof top, but the one after. Then the one three after, then four.

----------

Spider-Man wondered if he could perfect the use of combining webs.

He went back to the now empty alleyway that evening and cupped his wrists together.

He shot two strings of web which intertwined and tangled almost instantly.

He let them go and they smashed into the other side of the alleyway.

Then, he wondered if he couldn't put more strength into the force of webbing, too.

He looked at a trash bin and aimed at a aluminum can at the bottom.

He forcefully shot webbing at it.

Most of the trash fell all over the street.

The can was knocked into the air.

He hit it again with webbing, harder still.

It was knocked higher into the air.

He shot it again, and again, waiting for it to nearly hit the road before shooting it back up.

Then, he allowed one strained of his webbing to intertwine with itself on his wrist until it formed a half-torpedo shape.

He let go, and it skyrocketed at the aluminum can.

_CRASH!_

The can had been broken apart.


	7. When Ends Collide

Spider-Man waited at the rooftop of the Sears Tower for Constrictoro's next attack.

It hadn't been long before he heard a loud _thump!_

He whirled around and, to his greatest shock, saw Constrictoro, James Price, the enemy himself standing before him.

Constrictoro took a step forward.

Spider-Man took a step to the left, trying to recover from shock, trying to prepare himself for the fight.

"Stop what your doing, Constrictor!" He said, feeling his conscience wanting to at least try to reason with him, "You've lost your control."

"No.", Said Constrictoro.

He took a second step at Spider-Man.

"You see," He continued, "I control _it_."

Spider-Man took another step to the left.

"I'm precisely the same," Constrictoro continued; now taking a step to the left himself, "Only with an all new form."

As though both had been signaled by a start gun, Spider-Man and Constrictoro raced at each other.

Both fists met they're targets and Constrictoro was sent backwards.

Constrictoro wacked Spidey from the side, but continued moving back, toward the edge.

Spider-Man slashed a kick.

Constrictoro broke apart his head and neck, moving them level with his chest. Missing the hit, but still moving backward.

Spider-Man kicked again, but Constrictoro had already backed, off the edge, and fallen.

Spider-Man quickly looked down.

There was no more sign of him.

All of a sudden, Spidey felt something grip his shoe, and pull him down.

It was Constrictoro. With his back to the tower, his hands and feet stabbing like knives into the hard glass.

Spider-Man fell, struck a hand onto the window frame, and shot back up again.

He aimed a punch, which Constrictoro dodged, causing his fist to smash into the window, making it shatter.

Constrictoro leaped to the story below, aiming a kick from above.

Spider-Man was hit, causing him to fly back to the roof, but then aimed a strong hit at Constrictoro when coming down, using the gravity which pulled him as a weapon.

Constrictoro was hit and sent crashing down to the next story.

Spider-Man ran on the wall down to him, shooting webbing at him.

Parts of Constrictoro were shoved back, but he transformed back, now standing on the cracked window.

Spider-Man kicked at him, but Constrictoro picked Spidey up and threw him into the window.

The window crashed and Spider-Man fell in. He ran back to the edge, and dived like a swimmer back to the fight.

The two struggled and fought briefly before Spidey head butted Constrictoro another story down. This perhaps causing more pain to Spider-Man.

He raced down the side of the building and attacked Constrictoro again before he could recover.

Constrictoro began to slip. His legs sliding.

Spider-Man attacked again.

Constrictoro's legs broke apart and began to slide downward.

Spider-Man was sent with him, fighting, as Constrictoro slid down three stories, his legs now broken and rolling as well.

Spider-Man sent attack after attack.

Constrictoro was pretty much in pieces, but was still able to fight.

An arm reforming there, and crashing into Spidey's chest. A fist there, violently jabbing at his skull.

They were both sent sliding, faster and faster, story after story, but still far, far away from the ground.

Spidey combined two webs and shot them at Constrictoro.

Constrictoro was launched off the wall, and out into the air.

Quickly, Spider-Man kicked off the wall himself, and zoomed far from the building, crashing into Constrictoro in midair.

Constrictoro broke apart, but soon reformed himself, and swam toward Spidey.

He hit Spider-Man hard, causing Spidey to fly backward.

Spider-Man shot webbing onto Constrictoro and pulled himself back.

Constrictoro cut the webbing and slung a jeweled knife at Spider-Man.

Spider-Man dodged it once, twice, thrice. His head burning from his overwhelmed reflexes.

He gripped the knife and kicked at Constrictoro.

Constrictoro's knife bend like a joint and attempted to cut off the hands clutching it. But Spider-Man had already let go.

Constrictoro slung the knife from behind, but Spidey quickly took the webbing beside him that Constrictoro had cut earlier to briefly block the attack.

Spidey shot several web torpedoes at him, but they seemed to have no impact on Constrictoro.

Spidey swam above him, and shot a web net, forcing Constrictoro to tillet backward and seem to capsize in midair. But he then constricted his foot into a hand, dragging Spidey back to his level.

Spider-Man struggled to keep the webbing on as Constrictoro strived to cut it. Part of Spider-Man's arm getting sliced in the process.

As Spidey gritted in pain for a moment, Constrictoro seized the opportunity and clubbed Spider-Man with his long forehead, knocking Spidey far below him.

Constrictoro began cutting his webbed bonds as Spidey tried to swim back to his level in time.

Too late. The bonds were cut. And Constrictoro swung himself downward, head now facing the ground; just barley being able to hit Spidey in the face.

Spider-Man - who was standing, midair, feet to ground, trying to reach his hands up to hit Constrictoro - was now sent back down, but quickly swam back up.

Constrictoro - rather than flipping himself right-side up - simply compacted himself, quickly switching his head with his feet, while rotating his middle and arms.

He hit Spider-Man down by rotating, but kicked him back upward, and then gripped him with his now clawed fist.

Spidey shot a fist right into Constrictoro's face, breaking them apart.

Constrictoro collided with a passing car as he hit the ground.

Spider-Man shot two strings of webbing between buildings softening the fall, but still crashing onto a moving vehicle, going the direction opposite Constrictoro's car.

Regaining his breath, he saw Constrictoro reach into the driver's seat of the car he was on; and do something to the driver that somehow made the car turn around, and pick up excellent speed.

The car collided with Spidey's from the right, and the duel continued.

Constrictoro fighting Spider-Man with his left hand, and somehow operating the car with his right.

There was a _snap!_ and Constrictoro's left arm at broken into three fighting utensils.

The long stick-like pieces of crystal spun as the car Spidey was on tried to stop, but crashed.

Spider-Man leaped from his car.

Constrictoro leaped from his, too, and ran into Spidey's lane, right fist and left instruments out for combat.

But the battle was interrupted by a truck colliding with them both.

Both fought on the front of the engine before Spider-Man made a quick crawl, and flipped onto the top of the cargo.

Constrictoro followed, but the truck skidded into the wall of a tunnel as they entered it, forcing both to jump underneath the automobile.

As the truck scraped and picked up speed trying to avoid a crash, the two hung onto the undercarriage.

Constrictoro thrust his three spikes at Spidey, who barley missed; causing the spikes to stab into the tank of the truck, making gasolene spirt in all directions.

Spider-Man's feet hung to the under carriage as he dodged several more attacks from Constrictoro, upside down.

Constrictoro reshaped his right hand into a cylinder shaped club, beating it wildly while half-reconnecting his left arm so that it would shoot gasolene into Spider-Man's face.

Within his mask, Spider-Man was half-blinded by the gush of gasolene and could just barely see Constrictoro cracking and rebuilding his head to make it far sharper.

Constrictoro lunged his head forward.

From the little space under the truck, Spider-Man was unable to duck or move away. Without anything else to do, he gripped Constrictoro's razor sharp forehead and thrust it downward, onto the pavement.

The back of Constrictoro's head scrapped the road and pieces of him crashed off and out of sight.

Constrictoro jumped from the truck and onto another car in a faster lane.

Spider-Man jumped onto another car, too, and looked around.

They were far in the tunnel, now. He saw Constrictoro: three cars ahead of him as they both swerved into a much narrower and faster two-way passage.

Cars flew paced him as he saw Constrictoro leap onto a car in the opposite lane, obviously without any intend on escaping from Spider-Man.

Spidey got onto the side closer to the oncoming traffic of his car, while Constrictoro did the same.

Spider-Man stretched his right hand, ready to shoot a web; while he bend his left hand, ready to hit.

Constrictoro rotated his left arm up to where the elbow would be, revealing a cannon shaped weapon that seemed to be sharp around the rim, for the most lethal stabbing.

The two collided.

His hit stalled Constrictoro long enough for Spider-Man to web around the edges of his weapon.

The blow still knocking Spider-Man off his car.

He quickly jumped onto a car in the lane of Constrictoro's, as his enemy jumped on a car in the lane opposite.

Constrictoro began rotating all ten fingers. Their sharp edges only a bler of green.

Spider-Man allowed his webbing to curl around each wrist, ready to release them.

The two collided again.

Constrictoro slashed his ten weapons at Spider-Man.

Spider-Man released the two web torpedoes halves.

Constrictoro's fingers began to cut threw the web, before they launched him back, into the wall of the tunnel.

He stabbed into the wall, before leaping across an entire lane, landing on the back of a pickup truck in the other.

Spider-Man jumped onto the roof of a muscle car in the lane now opposite of Constrictoro.

Constrictoro leaned out the side of the pickup truck, while Spider-Man stood higher on the roof of his sports car. Both waiting for the other to prepare they're move.

The cars were nearly adjacent.

Constrictoro still didn't move, one hand holding the side of the pickup truck, the other draped lazily inside it.

Spider-Man lifted both fists, each for defense as well as attack.

They collided a third time.

Constrictoro whipped out the hand from inside the truck revealing a propane tank, ignited it, and thrust it into Spider-Man's gasolene soaked mask.

Spider-Man lost all balance in shock, falling backward at a speed much slower than the blue flame that was nearly to his face.

Just then, the wall behind them blew apart.

The truck they had fought on earlier, from lack of fuel and vandalized undercarriage, had lost all control and was skidding sideways into them.

Constrictoro leaped onto the truck's side, dropping the propane.

Spider-Man jumped just in time on what was left of the driver's roof of the crashing vehicle.

The driver's seat was completely wiped out.

They broke threw the wall of the tunnel, skidding onto a bridge over the city.

Even now, Constrictoro leaped his way where Spider-Man was, making attack after attack.

Spider-Man flipped in between where the truck towed the cargo hold, followed quickly by Constrictoro.

The two fought for a few more instances before the truck fell off the edge of the bridge.

While in the air, they both saw the propane Constrictoro had tried to use was not extinguished, and had caught on the edge of the gasolene soaked undercarriage.

They both jumped from the truck as it exploded in midair.

Spider-Man dodged pieces of metal as he glided back to the bridge and slung under it, clinging to side with his finger tips.

He looked back, and saw all that was left of the automobile.

But Constrictoro had already vanished.


	8. Invincible

Constrictoro swooped threw the tunnel, once more.

Picking up the all too valuable shards of crystal that Spider-Man had knocked off.

After this, he returned to the sight of his first attack, searching the slight trail of blood, trying to find out what Spider-Man did with the piece he was shot with.

He couldn't have gone far. He soon found it in a mostly unpopulated area.

He placed them all back. So they would re-heal, re-merge.

-----------------------------------------------------

It was apparent that after the recent outbreaks by Constrictoro, Chicago had sent the military to take care of him.

People were told not to worry. Just to stay inside and not go to work the day the military came.

That day came soon.

The entire assembly went down the streets of Chicago, looking for Constrictoro.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was precisely what Constrictoro had been waiting for. His pieces had reconnected, and he had been wishing to see action.

With this victory, all out war would begin. All out war against one man.

---------

Constrictoro came into the sight of the tanks, without delay.

The military did not wait a second. They instantly fired at him.

The bullets simply flew off of Constrictoro. The larger ones only knocked him back, briefly.

Constrictoro ran toward one of the tanks, spliced it open, and took it over.

The tank attacked one machine gunned truck after another.

The military fired on his tank.

Constrictoro leaped from it as it exploded.

So fast, he was able to run and throw another tank at the exploding own.

Causing both to fly into the rest of the army. Blowing up and crushing several other vehicles.

More tanks fired.

Constrictoro dashed across the walls of buildings, missing the hits this time. Before constricting his feet and legs far into the street.

The tank fired again. Constrictoro hit the large bullets back.

Constrictoro pulled his feet out of the street, carrying with them a large piece of the road.

Like before, he aimed it at the most explosive part of the tank and released it.

It blew up instantly along with three others.

Quickly, Constrictoro realized the battle was leading to the Harbor. They were trying to get him out of town, out of danger to others.

This he didn't mind. As long as it meant more military craft, more they're effort, and more of a victory for himself.

Just then he heard something. A sort of squishing spring.

He turned around, knowing what he would see there. And pleased.

"We meet again," He said, "Spider-Man."


	9. When Ends Collide, Agian

There stood Spider-Man hanging off one of the vehicles, facing him.

His suit blood stained, smoke and tar paved, and overall darker colored from they're two battles.

No more words needed to be said.

What was destroying the military next to destroying the world's hero.

Spider-Man swung past several military craft to reach Constrictoro.

Constrictoro broke off the nozzle of a tank and struck Spider-Man with it. Smashing Spider-Man into the side of a vehicle.

The military fired once more.

Spider-Man got up and web swung a large bullet colliding with him.

Threw the line of fire, Constrictoro and Spider-Man fought.

Constrictoro was shot back from several fires from tanks.

Spider-Man leaped where Constrictoro now was, aiming to corner him.

Constrictoro picked Spider-Man up, and threw him into the line of fire.

Spider-Man just barley leaped over several shots.

He now crawled along the very surface of the sand, trying to return to Constrictoro.

But Constrictoro was already walking calmly to the place Spider-Man was. Simply hitting back heavy fire.

Spider-Man shot two webs hard at him.

But Constrictoro gave them no attention.

He picked Spider-Man up by the head, pulling him into the line of fire.

Spider-Man felt dizzy and lost all energy. If he somehow wasn't shot, he would still be constricted.

Just then a boat horn interrupted Constrictoro's glare.

He could see many military ships arriving threw the great lake.

He threw Spider-Man roughly aside.

Contrictoro went forth, going threw the shore's water, then jumping up, leaping from ship to ship, to reach the newcomers.

After gaining back blood flow to his brain, Spider-Man shot a web at the nearest ship and leaped.

Swinging threw it, he shot at the next.

He pulled himself forward, now nearly at Constrictoro.

He shot webbing at the next ship.

It was too far away, he fell into the water.

From the spider strength in his lungs, he was still able to hold his breath far longer than most.

He hung to his web, waiting to reach the bottom of the ship, then climb up it.

But something made him let go of his web.

It was Constrictoro. Now, too, underwater.

He hit Spider-Man sending him closer to the floor of the lake.

Spider-Man flipped and kicked Constrictoro, twirling him head first into the sand at the floor of the water.

They were both now standing on the lake's floor.

Constrictoro kicked and thrust a hit at Spider-Man, but he leaped off the floor.

It took a while for Spider-Man to reach the floor again. In this time, blocking and hitting Constrictoro.

He propelled his fist into Constrictoro.

Constrictoro narrowed his hands and arms, making them long crystal spear heads.

He propelled these two weapons at Spider-Man.

He was hit by both.

Blood floated up to his mask and threw his nostrils.

If they hadn't been underwater, Constrictoro would have been able to deepen the two stabs sooner.

Spider-Man kicked Constrictoro's unguarded chest.

Constrictoro was knocked back and floated off the floor of the lake, pulling the two spears out of Spider-Man in the process.

Spider-Man was briefly too weak to kick back to the surface. And was unable to hold his breath any longer.

He coughed into the water around him, taking in huge breaths of water.

He was feeling dizzy again, losing control the way he did when nearly constricted.

Everything turned black.

But this was not because he was drowning. Something had blocked the light from hitting the floor of the lake. Something large.

The battle ships had arrived.

With all strength left, Spider-Man shot a web at the bottom of the ship and then retracted the webbing back into his arm. Pulling him up, and then crashing threw the floor of the ship.

Constrictoro waited for no time to pass and shot after him. Up, threw the water and metal surface.

There was Spider-Man, already breathing normally, once more. Hanging from the ceiling.

Constrictoro leaped up as Spidey leaped down.

The two collided in midair before colliding with the metal walls.

Spider-Man struck a punch at Constrictoro which he dodged, causing more water to gush in.

The two continued they're duel up the stairs.

Spider-Man spun at Constrictoro, attempting to knock him back down to the now water filled floor.

But Constrictoro leaped up and opened the door to the deck of the ship.

Spider-Man tried to follow, but Constrictoro slammed the door, launching Spider-Man back down; into the flooded floor and threw it. Sending him into the ocean, once more.

Constrictoro ran across the deck, ignoring the gunfire sent at him, peering over the edge. Looking to see if Spider-Man resurfaced.

He didn't.

Just then, a large web torpedo broke apart the deck's metal surface.

Constrictoro was impressed by this sort of power, but not afraid.

Spider-Man wasted no time re-attacking Constrictoro. Him, too, almost completely able to ignore the gunfire.

Constrictoro leaped onto the ladder leading to the smokestack.

Spider-Man crawled up the smokestack meeting Constrictoro from above.

Constrictoro leaped down and cut the surface of it.

Spider-Man was sent sliding down and crashing onto a battle ship near by.

Constrictoro walked across it, remaking his spear heads for hands and arms.

Spider-Man met him.

Constrictoro made for two stabs.

Spider-Man flipped out of the way and then gripped one, struggling with it.

While he did this, Constrictoro attempted a stab at him with the other.

Spider-Man webbed the surface of it, but the spear head was still able to re-enter one of the wounds it made earlier.

Spider-Man slung one arm, trying in vein to get the spear out.

Spider-Man and Constrictoro began to slide back to they're original ship.

It was moving, so it could shoot him without hitting it's own ship.

The spear head was removed.

Constrictoro was dueling with Spider-Man still, but was also running up the large smokestack.

The two ships were now driving toward each other, attempting to tip Constrictoro off and back into the deep water.

The smokestack went straighter and higher up as Constrictoro still raced up, with only Spider-Man in his way.

The two ships collided and then quickly parted. The smokestack was now strait up in the great lake, slowly sinking down.

Constrictoro and Spidey were now fighting at the very top. Only the hole of a chimney keeping them apart.

Constrictoro tried to hit Spider-Man in the chest, seeming to try and knock him off the stack.

Spider-Man ducked and moved himself forward from falling off.

It was a trick.

Constrictoro pulled Spider-Man forward, making him fall straight threw the smokestack.

Constrictoro leaped off it, landing in the other ship.

Spider-Man was send zooming threw the narrow smokestack and then collided with water. He felt it, though he could barley see it.

He held his breath, and shot a web below him.

With all his strength, he pulled his hand up, holding the end of the webbing.

The smokestack shot above him, allowing him to escape.

He propelled himself threw the water, shot two webs at the bottom of the ship, and launched himself threw the two hole he had made earlier.

The ship had nearly sunk, now. Most of the crew had already departed.

The ship Constrictoro was on had also been abandoned; but was far away from him, now.

The three members that were left on the ship were operating something.

He heard a noise from underwater and saw three missals fly from the surface and head for Constrictoro's ship.

Seizing the chance, Spider-Man leaped off the deck of the ship and web swung one of the missals.

He flew with it and then swung onto the other.

As he swung onto the third, he saw Constrictoro launch missals from his own ship and ride onto one of them.

Spider-Man web swung one coming to save his life.

Constrictoro had now passed him.

Spider-Man caught onto another and came flying back at him.

He webbed the two other missals nearby and caught the webbing on the missals he had been using.

Gathering them all together, he met with Constrictoro in midair and swung the missals at him.

Constirctoro gripped the web netting holding them and tried to throw them back at Spidey.

Spider-Man had already swung onto another missal as Constrictoro leaped on one like a surfboard.

He threw the net of missals at Spidey.

Spider-Man let go and fell.

Constrictoro leaped off his own as well.

They're was a large explosion as all missals met and collided.

Spider-Man and Constrictoro both fell into the water, again.

Constrictoro hit Spider-Man in the face, cracking his right lens.

Before Spider-Man could attack back, Constrictoro had spun to the surface, leaped onto a small military speeder boat, slain the driver, and was out of the city.


	10. The Final Collision

Spider-Man swung onto a boat, trying to catch Constrictoro, but it was too late.

Spider-Man left the city, wondering where Constrictoro went.

He began to search. But now, he felt his wound more than he did when fighting.

He had to rest, again. If he had any hope to defeat Constrictoro when they met again.

---------------------------------------------

Two days later, Spider-Man left the sewers where he had been resting. And upon leaving, he noticed a news statement:

Constrictoro had been sighted, again. Or, at least twelve constricted corpses had been found deep in a nearby forrest.

Spider-Man knew this was probably a signal to him. He knew Constrictoro could easily find a way to hide twelve bodies or at least hide the fact he had been their killer.

He was glad Constrictoro was somewhere unpopulated.

Spider-Man's madness trying to defeat him had made him forget the ones he was saving.

-------------------------------------------------

That night, Spider-Man swung threw trees deep in the forrest he had heard of, searching for his enemy.

There was an explosion and Spider-Man let go of his web to see where it came from.

Across a semi-small circle of half-burned grass and smoke, was Constrictoro. The moonlight shining threw his crystal face.

Spider-Man walked in the edge of where Constrictoro had used a very small military bomb.

Spider-Man took a step forward.

"We cross lines for a final time, now." Said Constrictoro, taking a step forward, himself.

Spider-Man took another step at him.

"You hindered me," Constrictoro continued, stepping again toward Spider-Man.

Spider-Man took two steps forward.

Constrictoro did the same.

"And I hindered you." He said.

Spider-Man took three steps ahead.

"One can only survive for so long." Constrictoro took three steps ahead, as well.

Both froze.

They were inches apart.

"And now," Constrictoro concluded, "We begin, one final time."

Spider-Man jabbed at Constrictoro's face, trying to shatter it.

Constrictoro grabbed both Spider-Man's arm, attempting to break them.

Spider-Man struggled against Constrictoro's strength, his feet digging deep into the soil from his effort.

Spider-Man shot two strings of webbing from his hands, which crossed and then roped around Constrictoro's throat.

Pieces of Constricoro's neck seemed to flip around like a tidal wave and cut the web strings.

Spider-Man lifted his feet, kicking Constrictoro, forcing him to let go for a moment.

Before Constrictoro could attack again, Spider-Man had thrust all strength at him, kicking him into a tree across the circle.

Spider-Man ran up the tree, himself, meeting Constrictoro midway.

Constrictoro was already standing sideways on the trunk, ready to greet him.

Constrictoro slammed two heavy spiked jewels shaped like cannon balls into Spider-Man's sides.

His ribs sounded close to breaking.

Spider-Man grabbed one of the crystal weapons and slammed it over the wielder's head, attempting to crack it.

Constrictoro still wacked the other ball into Spider-Man's back.

Spider-Man felt the spikes tear skin and blood ooze.

Constrictoro gained both weapons back and whirled them at Spider-Man's eyes.

Both lenses shattered, glass cut threw his eyes, but didn't blind him.

He wrestled with the two weapons before quickly creating web torpedoes and shooting large numbers of them at Constrictoro.

The tree was breaking apart from the impact.

The tree fell as Spider-Man and Constrictoro still fought madly on it.

They leaped off it, landing on another tree, and then another.

Constrictoro used a buzz saw-like device for a palm, and sawed off a tree limb and then launched it at Spider-Man.

Spider-Man shot onto another tree to miss it, before swinging quickly around it, and back on the tree that housed his enemy.

Constrictoro sawed right above him; causing half of the tree to come off and tip down onto Spider-Man.

Spider-Man fell with it, crushed under it's weight.

When he got up, bruised, he shot several more web torpedoes at the tree half with Constrictoro, causing the rest of it to burst into shards.

Constrictoro fell down with the rubble, attacking Spider-Man with full speed and success.

Spider-Man swung off to give himself a brief break.

But he saw Constrictoro, below, following him.

He swung faster.

But Constrictoro leaped onto a tree and began leaping threw them, now colliding once more with Spider-Man.

They dueled on his web before Spider-Man let go, causing them to fall into another tree.

Both giving all they're effort and more they're energy, they fought. Tree threw tree.

Constrictoro spun, shooting logs like arrows into Spider-Man.

Making both arms into knives, he caught Spider-Man, and sliced and jabbed at him.

Spider-Man felt cut after cut. He was going to die, this time.

He shot a web, not at Constrictoro, but down threw the tree limb; forming a hole for him alone to fall threw.

He landed on his feet. And saw a large power station in the woods.

Constrictoro flipped down and attacked Spider-Man, again.

Spider-Man ran where the power station was, trying to gain a bit of time to fight back.

Constrictoro zoomed far faster and stood in front of one of the building's walls.

Spider-Man now charged, not sure if he should have.

Constrictoro leaped up, gripped Spider-Man, and slammed him into the wall.

It broke, revealing unstable electrical wiring.

Constrictoro couldn't be electrocuted, but Spider-Man could.

He threw Spider-Man into it, again.

Spider-Man formed a shield-like web that barley barricaded him from the electricity.

But the web was starting to crumble.

Constrictoro pushed Spider-Man harder into it.

Spider-Man shot a second web into the wiring and thrust the cables out and over his shoulder.

Devastation.

The grass, wood, sticks, and leaves went ablaze. Getting worse every second.

The fire going from yellow to orange, the from orange to deep orange, then to blinding blue.

His reflexes reminded him Constrictoro was still fighting him.

Turning to him, ignoring the flames that engulfed them, they fought once more.

Every hit with entire dedication. Every lunge with absolute calculation.

Spider-Man felt he may die from the heat.

Constrictoro picked Spider-Man up and threw him into the vibrating heat of the field of blue fire.

There was nothing to cling onto. There was no place he could web.

He aimed the heals of his shoes onto the flames, before leaping backwards as far as possible.

He could feel he was on fire before he crashed back into the power station.

He shot webs which curled around himself, putting out the flames.

He tour off the burned webbing.

He had been injured deeply.

He only half-saw Constrictoro walking toward him, picking him up with one grip, and throwing him into the flames, once more.

With nothing else to shoot, he shot two webs which caught and curled around Constrictoro.

He pulled them.

Constrictoro was launched into the flames, instead.

Spider-Man collided again with the soil, and shot to his feet.

The fire neither burned, nor harmed Constrictoro in anyway.

Constrictoro walked to the edge of the blue flames, but did not leave them.

He was waiting for Spider-Man to come for him.

While waiting, he threw pieces of the blue fire at him.

Spider-Man just barley ducked, his energy drained.

Stepping forward, Spider-Man went forward, right up to Constrictoro, allowing him the advantage.

They continued the fight, once more.

Constrictoro attacking everywhere, but trying to pull Spider-Man into the flames with him whenever he attacked back.

Spider-Man's feet and legs could hardly stand or survive from the heat.

The blue flames shown threw Constrictoro alarmingly clearly.

Constrictoro aimed a fierce jab at Spider-Man.

Spider-Man leaped to the ground to miss it.

This was a dangerous decision.

The heat of the flames scorched his already burned body.

He got back up.

Constrictoro looked a lot clearer. His green color was so light; you would have thought he had a light blue shade from the light of the fire.

Constrictoro seemed to notice it, too, and stepped out of the blue flames.

Spider-Man attacked Constrictoro, who's surface was now shiny; almost like it was liquid frozen mid-flow.

When he hit him, he felt hollow.

Spider-Man had heard Constrictoro was birthed by crystals being heated at high temperatures. If brought back to these temperatures, his form would be lost. The crystals would loose stability as they did when they took his form.

Constrictoro fell back towards the fire, and stood back up facing him. His back to the flames, but still close to them.

He seemed to be growing more hollow by the second. He soon became a thin shell.

Spider-Man wondered why he didn't run, but then it seemed Constrictoro could no longer move.

He stood there, just glaring at Spider-Man.

Glaring at him, even as his frame, unable to support him any longer, broke apart.

His pieces stabbed into the ground. The flames soon joined the ground where the shards stood, and then consumed all that was left of Constrictoro.


End file.
